


Anchoring

by Wanderingchronicle



Series: no choir [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Cuddlepiles, Cuddles for EVERYONE, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Molly's a little anxious really, Multi, Pining but just a little bit, Pre-Relationship, Purring, Snugglings, Team as Family, WAFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 21:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15105215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanderingchronicle/pseuds/Wanderingchronicle
Summary: For a prompt from the Widomauk discord: Molly, and by extension the rest of the Nein, discover that Caleb likes sleeping in a pile. Fluff ensues.





	Anchoring

**Author's Note:**

> Someone put this idea in my head and I just had to do something about it.
> 
> This is just shameless fluff, I don't know what to tell you. It's also my first fic on AO3 in about six years. Hello Critrole fandom! (waves)

“Caleb. Caleb?”

Molly sat on his heels, eyeing the situation in front of him with something akin to glee on his face. Caleb Widogast, the Nein’s resident Wizard, gave him a faintly baleful look from underneath his bedroll. Frumpkin was lying down on top of what he could only assume was Caleb’s chest, based on its location in relation to his face, and Nott had sprawled across Caleb’s legs. Both cat and goblin were purring, in Frumpkin’s case loudly enough to wake the dead.

Caleb raised an eyebrow, as if daring Molly to comment. Molly regards him curiously for a few moments, then nods down at the rest of his body. “Are you quite comfortable there? You’re a little bit...trapped.”

“I like this,” Caleb replies, withdrawing slightly under the blankets, “it’s warm, and I like the...the weight.”

Molly nods thoughtfully. He can understand that, a little -- after shows at Fletching and Moondrop, more often than not half the Circus has simply fallen asleep in a heap. He missed it on occasion, Yasha wasn’t really enough to do a proper pile with…

He pauses, tilting his head to one side. Although Caleb had come out of his shell a little bit since he had first begun travelling with the Nein, this wasn’t the carnival and Caleb wasn’t carnival folk. And handsome as Caleb was, Molly was more than prepared to sit on his hands if he wasn’t interested, or comfortable, and he knows this would be a strange thing to offer or ask of --

Fuck it.

Molly clears his throat. He’d just ask casually, lay it on a little, and if Caleb said no he’d just walk away. That was a plan. It was a good plan, even.

“Well, if you’d like to add to the pile,” Molly starts, and immediately Caleb’s head turns to look at him. His face is only really visible from the nose up, and his eyes are completely unreadable.

Immediately, Molly stops, straightening slightly in order to move further out of Caleb’s space. “I mean,” he says, hating how unsure of himself he sounds all of a sudden, “if you’re alright with Nott and Frumpkin, I can--”

“Yes,” Caleb says slowly, as if he’s trying the idea out, “you can...ah, just be careful of Frumpkin, he will bite if he’s jostled.”

That was _not_ the answer Molly was necessarily expecting, and to be honest he hadn’t expected to make it this far. “Alright,” he says eventually, eyeing the arrangement of bodies in front of him for a moment.

He reaches diagonally across his knees to plant a hand on the ground, judging the distance carefully, then braces himself on the dirt and flops forward and sideways, landing facing away from Caleb with his back pressed up against Caleb’s side.

Maybe he imagines the tiny contented sigh from behind him. Frumpkin gets up, circles across, and rearranges himself so he’s pressed up against Molly’s back. He feels Caleb shift slightly, then the sound of Caleb scratching Frumpkin behind the ears.

He’s just started to drowse when a voice sounds from Caleb’s other side. “Are you guys all in a cuddle pile? That’s really cute, guys.” Jester says brightly, leaning over to coo at Nott.

A few more moments pass, and for a second Molly thinks Jester has gone. “You know,” she says, “I’ve never actually been in like, a pile of people to cuddle before, it looks kind of nice -- oh! Really really?”

“If you like,” Caleb says from behind him. There’s a giggle from Jester, and then a shift and a rustle as she presumably insinuates herself on Caleb’s other side.

A few heavy footfalls announce Yasha’s presence. She doesn’t speak, just sits down next to Molly and stretches her legs out. He drapes an arm across her thighs, and she raises a hand and scratches gently at the back of his head. A purr rises at the back of his throat as he leans into the touch.

A moment later, a pale hand extricates itself from between his back and Caleb’s side and pats at his shoulder curiously, then at his chest. “Molly,” Caleb says curiously, “are you purring?”

“Mmm,” Molly manages fuzzily, still leaning into Yasha’s ministrations, “s’nice.”

Caleb says nothing, but Molly feels him rearrange himself a little behind him. A hand settles over his ribs, as if to feel the vibrations thrumming through his chest. Molly gives the hand a pat, then closes his eyes.

A moment later, he hears Beau mumble “I’m supposed to be on watch, but I’m cold, so,” followed by her wedging herself in the perpendicular created by Yasha’s legs and his own.

Shortly afterwards, he hears Jester murmur “There’s some space here, and it’s nice and warm,” followed by the telltale sound of Fjord sneezing.

He gives the hand settled over his ribs a quick squeeze. “You comfortable back there?” he asks in an undertone.

A few moments later, Caleb squeezes back. “Ja,” he says, “very comfortable, danke.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr as wanderingchronicle or discord as VoxLexicon#4486 :)


End file.
